Fire Heart (The Titans: Book One) (15 page)

“There were nine other men with me,” he said, pushing the explosion from his mind for the moment. “They had to have killed some of the yaru. There's no way I could have done that on my own.”

Clare shook her head. “I counted. There were fifty in the area around you. At least, fifty give or take a few—it's hard when you have to match up bodies with dismembered limbs. I saw your men kill only a handful before they died. Poor sods. Never had a chance.” She laughed softly and inclined her head. “But you...you were truly amazing. It's been an honor meeting you.”

Will blushed, not knowing what to say. Finally he asked, “How is it you've been following them this whole time and you're still alive?”

She shrugged. “I've always been good with a sword. And I've got Grim, so he can smell them out. They seem to be terrified of us, too, which is a plus. And I've gotten very good at sneaking up on them.”

Will stared at her. “You're mad,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “Incredible, but mad.”

“What?” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and the edge in them sharpened.

“You're going to get yourself killed, running around and chasing a pack of yaru.” He looked away. Grim laid down next to him, resting his massive head on his forepaws, and Will scratched him. “Come back to Prado with me,” he said suddenly. She stared at him, and he met her gaze evenly. “This isn't normal for the yaru to roam so far and wide, or in such large numbers. Usually they stick to the edges of the world. I've got half a thousand more men in the city, and I'm sure Castor would find it worth his time to do a little hunting. You're just one person,” he raised his bandaged right arm, “and we've both seen what happens when just one person fights them.”

“Who's this Castor you keep mentioning?” she asked suddenly. “The name sounds familiar...”

“Ah—my commander. He leads the Raven Knights.”

Clare's eyes widened. “The mercenary band?” Will nodded. “Then...are you Willyem Blackmane?”

Will laughed, surprised. “Well, yes. You've heard of me?”

“Only over the last few months, but I've heard stories in the towns I've stopped at.” She shook her head and smiled. “Some I don't know whether to believe or discount as drunkard yarns. Is it true you took Brightstone with only twenty men?”

“Well, no,” he said slowly, “I scaled the wall with twenty men and then opened the gate for Castor
from the inside.” Clare knelt down close to him, her eyes alight with the excitement of a child listening to a bard. “He had a hundred men with him.”

“And did you really kill a dragon?”

Will laughed, wincing as his chest throbbed. “Well...a sand dragon? Yes. A real dragon? No, I, ah... I don't think they exist. But if I ever find one to kill, I'll be sure to let you know.”

“Wow,” she breathed, still grinning, and rather than the disappointed frown Will had expected her eyes seemed to twinkle with even more interest. “An honest hero. Well, now it's even more of an honor to have met you. For someone to have accomplished so much so young...”

“Eh, not exactly,” Will chuckled, and Clare raised a questioning eyebrow. “I'm not sure I'd say
young.
And I'm even less sure I'd say
hero.
”

“What are you, twenty-five? Certainly no more than thirty, and I'd say that's fairly young. You
can't
be older than me.”

Will laughed, thankful that she had not pressed the subject of his heroism. “You make it sound like you're an old woman,” he said with a grin. “
I
, on the other hand, am almost forty years old. So a fair amount older than you, I think.”

Clare gave him a funny look. “Not by much.”

“What?”

“I'll be thirty-eight in...” She thought for a moment. “No, wait, the summer solstice has already passed, hasn't it?” She chuckled. “Goodness. I'd completely forgotten.”

“How strange.” Will shook his head and laughed. “We have the same nameday.” He didn't add that they were, in fact, the same age.
What are the chances?
he thought. “You know, sometimes I imagine I'm beginning to feel my age...but I never really do.” He shrugged. “I still feel like I'm just past manhood.” He laughed and waggled his fingers mystically. “Maybe I'm immortal!”

Clare joined in his mirth. He decided that she had a beautiful laugh. “I know what you mean,” she said. “I'm starting to think that maybe it's because I'm supposed to hunt down the yaru that killed my city.” She smiled at him, and winked. “Maybe it's destiny, and once they're all dead I'll simply fade away in a puff of smoke.”

“I would certainly hope not,” Will murmured, thinking that she had a lovely smile. But he must have been staring, because a moment later she cleared her throat and looked away, though her smile remained. He mentally slapped himself. “So...would you happen to know how far away we are from Prado?” he asked after a moment.

“No,” she said slowly, thinking, “but we're about a half-day's walk from the villag
e where you were sleeping
. I'm sorry—I don't know this area very well.”

Will nodded. “Well, if you can get us back, I can get us to Prado.” He started to stand.

Her hand was on his shoulder immediately, pressing him down. She was quite strong. “Not yet,” she said. “You're in no way fit to walk around, and I'm certainly not going to carry you.” She said the last with another wink. “We'll stay here for another day or two while you recover, and then we'll move.” Will opened his mouth to protest, but she arched an eyebrow and he shut it with a snap. “Not yet,” she said again.

She stood and walked over to the fire. Next to Will's things she had laid her own—a battered rucksack, a sheathed longsword, and a sheathed dagger. She dug around inside the pack for a moment before pulling out several strips of dried meat and a small loaf of bread, which she broke in half. Will's stomach growled, and he suddenly realized how hungry he actually was. Clare tossed a few pieces of meat and half the bread to him. “Thanks,” he said, and then proceeded to ravenously wolf down the much-needed food. “I don't suppose any of the horses made it out alive?” he asked between bites.

Clare shook her head and said, “The yaru got them all. They never leave anything alive.” She pulled a waterskin out of her pack and drank deeply, then corked it and tossed it to Will. His right hand shot out reflexively, and he winced as the impact of catching it sent lances of pain up his arm. “Sorry!” Clare said, looking chagrined. “I wasn't thinking.”

“It's fine,” Will replied with a somewhat forced chuckle. “I'll live. I think I'm going to have to train myself to be left-handed for awhile.” They ate in silence for a time.  “You know,” he said quietly, staring off into space, “I raised that horse from a colt. Funny, but I never really felt much of anything for him until now.” He chewed on a piece of meat thoughtfully. “I kind of miss him. I guess you never really realize what you have until it disappears, huh?”

Clare said nothing, and after a moment he looked over at her. She was staring at the untouched food in her hands. “I know that feeling,” she said softly. And then, after a pause, “What was his name?”

Will laughed, startling her, and she gave him a look that suggested he might have hit his head too hard. “Sorry,” he said after a moment. “It's just—his name was Horse. Creative, right?” He laughed again, and after a moment Clare joined in. Their mirth slowly died away, and they lapsed into silence once more.

Grim nudged Will's wrist with his nose, startling him from his thoughts. He looked down to see the warhound's eyes locked onto the piece of dried meat in his hand. “So how did you come about running with this mangy mutt?” he asked, tossing the meat to Grim.

“I was part of the First Rank,” Clare answered. “They were...I guess the elite of Dahoto's guards. I don't really know anything comparable around here. Anyway, each soldier in the First Rank gets assigned to a warhound. Or got assigned, I suppose. We had to raise them from pups so they would find it favorable not to kill us and eat us somewhere along the road.” She indicated Will with her piece of bread. “That's why I find it so strange that he's taken a liking to you.”

Will scratched the dog behind the ears, chuckling as one massive leg began to thump the ground in ecstasy. “What was it like?” he asked.

Clare looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Living in one place. Having stability. Killing people for the right reasons.”

Clare laughed. “Killing people for the right reasons? That's all up to interpretation, really. Stability was nice—I got paid to protect people, and that always felt good. Staying in one place?” She laughed again. “You have no idea how often I wished to be a traveling mercenary. It gets old, being in the same city year after year. I only ever left Dahoto for any length of time once, when King Seriperco called for soldiers to fight in a campaign against a Karkashian army. I was only out of the city for three months, but it felt wonderful to be somewhere else. I spent most of that time covered in blood and filth, but still. I...I guess I got what I wished for in the end...no, I can't think like that. I didn't want any of them to die.”

“I'm sorry,” said Will after a moment. “I wasn't trying to make you feel guilty.”

She waved a hand in the air dismissively. “I know. It's just me. I want to help people, and instead everyone I knew is dead and there was nothing I could do.”

“Well, I really can't thank you enough for helping
me,
” Will said with a smile. “Saving me, rather. I'd be dead if not for you.”

She smiled back at him, her eyes searching his face. “So what is it like to be a mercenary?”

Will laughed aloud and leaned back, planting his hands on the ground behind him. Spikes of lightning shot up his arm and he quickly sat forward once more. “Well,” he said with a grimace, “shall I begin with eating mouldering food? Or perhaps with getting paid just enough to get by?”

“But the Raven Knights are famous now.
I
heard about your exploits and
I'm
from the Westlands!”

Will nodded. “True. It is much better now—evidenced by my clothes.” He looked down at his ripped and tattered raiment and raised an eyebrow. “Well, what were my clothes, anyway.” He huffed a sigh. “And they were my first new pair in two years. Oh, well. My thanks for the patch job. But yes, we do get paid more and now the food isn't so moldy. We only just recently took Prado, and its people seem to like us better than the taen who ruled it. Fame is awfully powerful.” He looked into her eyes for a moment, and then turned away. “Truth be told, though, I miss the old times—even the raggedy clothes and terrible food.

“There's something to be said for sleeping under the stars every night with a hundred of your comrades, knowing that you can trust each and every one of them with your life. There is one you'll
meet, his name is Hook. He can't talk because somebody cut out his tongue, and he looks like a Belahan straight out of a faerie story, but he's one of the best men I've ever met. He has saved my life so many times that I've lost count. And then there are Castor and Katryna, who are like family. Katryna especially. She and I have been together for ten years...” He trailed off, smiling softly as he lost himself in thought.

“It must be nice,” Clare said quietly, “to have so much companionship.” There was sadness in her voice, and Will looked back at her.

“Well, if you'll stay with us, you can have that too.” He shrugged. “I know it won't replace the people you've lost, but there are good people in the Ravens. And Katryna will absolutely adore you. We don't have very many women, you know.”

Clare laughed. “Oh, my. What will happen if one of your lonely men sees me and can't control himself in my feminine presence?”

Will laughed, but it was a humorless one. “I'll break his skull.”

Clare raised an eyebrow, her mirth evaporating, but Will grinned at her.

“We have too many men now. Sometimes they need a little culling to make them remember who runs the Ravens.” He winked at her. “Don't worry, they won't try anything with you. I promise.”

Clare shook her head slowly. “Why is it that you would do all these things for me when we've only just met?”

“Well, you did save my life.”

Clare cocked an eyebrow, but looked away and did not pursue the subject. “So this Katryna,” she said quietly, her voice taking on a strange tone that Will could not identify, “tell me about her. She is special to you?”

“Oh, yes,” Will said softly, and for a moment the image of the Eastland girl flashed across his mind. “She...she and I have been through a lot together. Even Castor doesn't know the full extent of it.”

“You have been with her for ten years?” Clare asked, her voice still carrying that strange tone.

“Somewhere around there,” Will answered. “We hopped mercenary bands together for years until we met Castor. Then he fell in love with her, and I've been tied to him ever since.” He smiled. “Not that I regret it, of course. I'd already made up my mind to stick with him.”

“Wait,” Clare said, “is she your woman? Or Castor's?”

Will barked a laugh that made his ribs protest painfully. “Oh,” he said with a wince, “I don't think anyone can claim Katryna as
his
, but Castor is as close as it gets. She thinks she's got him wrapped around her finger, but...I think it's more the other way around.”